


Better than Eyesight

by BlunderGod (PompousPickle)



Series: The Fire Does Not Rule You [1]
Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Blindness, Lots of face-touching, M/M, reference to the MKX comics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PompousPickle/pseuds/BlunderGod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenshi sees more with his hands than anything else. Hanzo helps give him that sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better than Eyesight

“He is beginning to look like you,” Hanzo said, a bit off-handedly.  It had been some time since they had seen each other, and the Grandmaster wasn’t sure what to talk about with the swordsman. Hanzo had very little interest in the trivial matters of the SF, and Kenshi hardly wanted to speak of his personal quest against the Red Dragon. Kenshi always spoke formally, but with the kind of wit that Hanzo had very little patience for. On the surface, the two were an odd match for friends.

And yet, here they were, sitting across from each other and eating a meal that Kenshi had prepared. The swordsman only looked up at him for a quick moment. “Does he?” He paused for a moment, placing his bowl of rice down and tilting his head. “He does not agree. In his mind’s eye, he takes rather after Suchin.”

Hanzo was a little amazed that Kenshi could pick up on Takeda’s thoughts so well, since his son refused to meet with him in person. “You pay close attention to him then.” It was no secret that Kenshi was curious about the boy. But he hardly spoke of him whenever the two of them met. He would bring supplies for his son, or food for the clan. But he would hardly ask about Takeda unless Hanzo chose to discuss it.

“He is hard for me to ignore,” Kenshi agreed with a small, sad smile on his face. He fiddled with his teacup for only a moment before continuing. “Sento can sense him as another descendant. It yearns for him.”

Hanzo wanted to ask if it was only Sento that yearned for Takeda. This was far from the first time Kenshi had visited.  Usually he came with a trinket from his travels or a story as to why he was “in the neighborhood”. Now, he only came with tea and a tired expression on his face.

“He does resemble you though,” Hanzo finally concluded, after a long moment of silence between the two. The Grandmaster never fully knew what to say to his friend; he was never sure why Kenshi came to visit, if not to see his son. “He grows more like you every day. Tall, with strong features and a sharp tongue. Yet you can only see him as he thinks of himself.”

“As I see most people, my friend,” Kenshi then added with a small smile.  He set down his food, his bowl now empty and his cup cleared. The telepath could feel the thought slip through Hanzo’s mind. It was unintentional, but he could hear it clear as day.

_Even me._

“Even you,” Kenshi confirmed, without Hanzo saying anything at all. Kenshi could see Hanzo clearly from his own mind. He was all hellfire and bones, flaking black skin and decaying flesh. He was teeth and limbs and chains. Kenshi knew, instinctively, that there was more to the man. That he was no longer the monster that he saw himself as. He told the Grandmaster as much, often and with conviction. But even still, in his own reflection, he saw himself a creature of the Netherrealm.

“No one asked you to dig through my mind, Swordsman,” Hanzo responded. He placed down his bowl and scooted backwards, as though to distance himself from his friend. Kenshi could feel the anger inside of him rise like a pulse. Yet he knew that it was a controlled heat. The swordsman couldn’t help but chuckle; his friend had certainly grown in the past few years.

“Even I have to wonder what the great Hanzo Hasashi looks like from time to time.” Kenshi grabbed his bowl and cup, stacking them delicately and taking them away from the table. Hanzo held up his empty dish as well, and Kenshi wordlessly took it. He place the dishes in a small bin near the door, where Hanzo often left them before taking them to the mess to be cleaned. For a fleeting moment, it struck the ninja how simple everything was with Kenshi. He never needed many words or special directions; Kenshi simply just acted and never pried.

“However,” Kenshi then continued, sitting on the floor next to Hanzo. He tucked his legs under him formally and faced the man with the utmost politeness and respect. “I have trouble believing that you look quite like you think you do.” He extended out his hand, reaching directly for Hanzo’s face. The Grandmaster flinched backwards for an instant before realizing what the man wanted. “May I?”

Hanzo grunted, letting go of a breath he didn’t realized he was holding. Finally, he nodded- though it occurred to him a little too late that Kenshi could not tell. Still, the other man could feel his hesitation and the acceptance, even without Sento to guide him. And with that, the swordsman rested his hands against the Grandmaster’s face.

He ran his hands over the cheekbones first, skimming his fingers along the jawline and down towards the chin. Hanzo sat perfectly still, steadying his breath and allowing his friend to explore his features. Kenshi worked his way up the other man’s face, memorizing his ears, his nose, his brow bone and everything in between. He ran his hands up to his hairline and back down across the temples. He patched the man together in his mind, gathering every piece of him and put skin back on his empty bones. Slowly, he built a man from a monster, and only hoped that Hanzo could see it as clearly as he could.

Hanzo knew, on some level, that this was fairly normal for Kenshi. Despite the powers and despite Sento, the man could only see as much as his other senses would allow him. Yet still, he couldn’t help but dwell on the gentle brush of his hands through his facial hair and his fingers pressing right underneath his ears. He had more control than to let it show, but he knew that he would be thinking about this small touch for a while.

It was only a few moments before Kenshi removed his hands. “You’re quite the handsome man, Master Hasashi.” Kenshi chuckled and leaned back casually on his arms.

Hanzo felt his thin wire of patience snap, if only for a brief second. He let out a low huff that ended with more of a growl than he intended. Kenshi caught on quickly, and didn’t say anything else on the matter. He simply rested in the silence, finding contentment and companionship there.

Hanzo looked the swordsman up and down, trying to figure out what to make of him. He spoke frankly and freely, but refused to see his own son. He came to Hanzo seemingly without motive, but always spoke to him of heavy matters. Still, the ninja felt more at ease with the blind swordsman than he did with just about anyone. “We have known each other quite some time. There is no more need to call me Master Hasashi.” The words were hard to say, but Kenshi only smiled as the Grandmaster said them.

“Hanzo, then?” The swordsman stood up and nodded. Hanzo climbed to his feet to match him. “It’s a good name. It suits you much better than Scorpion.” Kenshi said this passively, as though it didn’t matter; as though separating the man from the wraith wasn’t an impossible task. It seemed such a simple thing when Kenshi said it, but it hit the other man like a hammer.

Hanzo couldn’t think of anything to say as Kenshi gathered his things and fastened Sento back to his back. “Thank you, for the lovely meal. But I’m afraid Lieutenant Blade is expecting a full report on some suspicious activity in a nearby town.” Kenshi paused for a moment, looking down at the table. “I made some extra food.”

“I will make sure he gets it,” the other man finished, without his friend needing to fully finish his thought. The muscles in Kenshi’s face relaxed, relieved that he wouldn’t need to say it out loud.  The man thanked him with a quick bow, which Hanzo matched.  Hanzo wanted to thank him in kind. He wanted to tell him that their conversations always helped him, meant something to him. He wanted Kenshi’s hands on his face one more time. But he knew he’d never be able to find the words to say it. “I will see you again, my friend.”

Kenshi’s mouth turned upwards just a little. “And I you.” He paused before heading towards the door. “Or at least, as much as I see anyone.” He could almost feel Hanzo relax as he said it. And Kenshi couldn’t help but smile as he left the Grandmaster’s quarters. Finally the other man was fully coming around to him. He would have to stop by again very soon.


End file.
